Masters After All
by Hippie In A Chevy
Summary: Ash and Ritchie, suicide and shounen-ai. Yay! Leagueshippiness ahead!


I was a failure

I was a failure.

I suppose I never should have tried in the first place. There were thousands, probably millions of people better than me. So why did I even attempt to become a pokemon master?

The truth is, I thought I could win.

And maybe even do something right for a change.

All of my brothers were famous pokemon trainers, so I could be one too, I had thought. I gritted my teeth as I finally realized my stupidity.

I should just go back home, to their teasing, to their insults. "You'll never be good at anything, Ritchie, you're just a scrawny little kid with no brains," they would say. Mom would be disappointed, but would quickly get over it, as she had five other boys already accepted into the league. Who cared if the youngest one was just an untalented little runt?

Dad…dad would be upset, for sure. "Why can't you do anything right?!" he would scream. And I would cower in fear, mumbling apologies as he continued his lecture. "Your brothers are all pokemon trainers, why can't you be?" I could almost picture his angry red face looming over my scared one.

And after he got over it…well, that'd take a while, but eventually things would revert back to the same crap I'd put up with for six years. Not to mention that I'd be one of the only ones left in the school, most people went out to be a trainer whether they wanted to or not. I'd be left with the bullies, the kids who couldn't pass the trainer's exams. And now…it would be worse than ever, they would KNOW that I couldn't be a successful trainer. Even the teachers would look down on me, I'd never made very good marks so they figured I had to be good at something. But I proved them wrong.

And suppose I did stay a trainer…it was never really what I wanted to do, and I wasn't even good at it. What I'd really wanted all my life was to be a teacher. But our family was too poor to afford college, and I wasn't good enough at sports or academics to get a scholarship.

Right then, I felt so helpless. It was like fate had just grabbed my dreams and ripped them into pieces, and left them lying on the floor to be trampled on. I was no better than the dust on the ground; I was only put here to be the butt of everyone's jokes. I remembered when that second grader…when he failed a test, and said: "Hey, I may be dumb, but at least I'm not as dumb as Ritchie!" Everyone had laughed at that. I skipped third period and spent it in a bathroom stall, crying. I felt the same way then as I did now.

All these years I had been in denial, but it finally hit me. They were right; I really was just a stupid little kid who would never be anything. I wasn't even worth the air I breathed.

So maybe I should quit breathing.

The thought startled me back to the present. I'd never considered suicide before…I mean, it was just so final. Once you did it, there was no turning back.

But the thing was, I really didn't want to.

The wind whipped my short brown hair around my face, and I brushed it away. From the cliff Viridian City looked like a tiny dot on the horizon. I stared at it without expression and took another step toward the edge of the cliff. It wouldn't be long now…and I wanted the last thing I saw to be the sun setting behind Mount Moon.

I took a deep breath, strode boldly up to the edge of the cliff, then stopped. I realized I wasn't quite ready. If I went through with this…there would be no turning back. But did I really want to?

"You'll never be good at anything, Ritchie, you're just a scrawny little kid with no brains."

"I may be dumb, but at least I'm not as dumb as Ritchie!"

"Ritchie, I know you try hard, but your hardest just isn't enough. Maybe we should hold you back this year…"

"And son, don't come home until you have that League Cup!"

_Go,_ the wind seemed to whisper. _Go, go, go, go…_

I was ready now. Taking a final, wistful look at the red and purple streaks winding their way across the evening sky, I jumped farther than I ever have in my life.

But something caught me.

I looked up, straining to see what had happened, but all I saw was a hand. A hand with green biker gloves…Ash?!

"Hang on, Ritchie!" his unmistakable voice rang out. It WAS Ash! But how…and why? I didn't deserve to be saved! Anger flooded my brain.

He began to hoist me up. Hand over hand, he pulled me by the arm he had caught. I grimaced in pain. The stupid idiot…didn't he realize that hurt?

"Umph!" With a grunt of effort, he yanked me back over the edge. I looked back down the cliff face, and a few rocks tumbled down, as if showing me how close I had come to death. And then I realized I had almost made a terrible mistake. The anger vanished almost immediately. I didn't want to die…not just yet, anyway. "Thanks," I muttered. I was too embarrassed to say anything else.

"Ritchie…" he trailed off. He took a few deep breaths, then looked up and asked, "Why?"

I was silent for a moment. "You wouldn't understand," was all I could say. It was none of his business knowing what I thought.

"Ritchie, I want to help you, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what's wrong!" he shouted.

I clenched my fists. The anger was coming back. "Just leave me alone, okay?!" and with that, I darted off.

"RITCHIE!" I heard his faint cry chasing after me as I ran toward the woods. "Come back…" then he disappeared from hearing distance.

I didn't care. I was beginning to have regrets about not jumping sooner; it was all my fault for hesitating. I did want to die after all. Why would I want to stay here, all I ever put up with was pain, suffering, pain, humiliation, and more pain. No wait, it was his fault for catching me! I had the right to kill myself if I wanted to, but he had to go and interfere didn't he?! Anger seethed through my body, and I quit paying attention to where I was going…

"YAAAAAH!" I shrieked as I tripped over a root, and there was a sickening crack as my head hit something hard.

"Ohhh…" a low moan escaped my throat. I reached up to touch my wound, and felt something warm and sticky oozing between my fingers. I pulled them away to find them covered in blood.

Touching it had only made my injury worse, for almost immediately after I felt hot tears sliding down my cheek. My body wracked with bitter sobs, I collapsed on the forest floor, crying.

Then everything went black.

"Ritchie…Ritchie…"

Someone was calling my name. Someone very far away…

"Ritchie…wake up…"

I couldn't see them, but they sounded so comforting…

"Ritchie!" the voice called sharply.

"Oh…uh, what?" My vision was blurred. "What happened?"

"You got knocked out. But you're fine now," a soft hand brushed across my arm, sending chills up and down my spine.

"Ash?" The figure became clear. "I told you to leave me alone!" I said as firmly as I could, which was unfortunately not very much.

"Ritchie…" he sighed, "I'm sorry. I mean, I could've been a little more understanding back there."

"Yes," I said quietly. The anger had left my body, leaving only the tiredness you get after an adrenaline rush. I found that I could forgive him, he had only been trying to help, and had made a mistake. Much like my mistakes…maybe we had a bit in common?!

"Do you forgive me?" he asked pleadingly.

"I forgive you," I whispered.

He grinned down at me, then his expression became serious. "Come on…we need to get you back to the pokemon center." He helped me to my feet. Despite my pain, I smiled.

It took about half an hour to get back, though I couldn't be sure because I wasn't wearing a watch. Misty and Brock were there, looking very worried. They worried even more when Ash told them of my attempted suicide.

"What happened to your head?" asked Brock. He twisted his own head around, probably trying to examine mine from all angles.

"I fell and hit it," I replied. No sense going into details.

"Umm…Ash? If Ritchie doesn't need our care, we were thinking of going to the post-league carnival," Misty said. I winced when she said the word "league." It brought back many painful memories…

"No!" I shouted as my last pokemon fainted. "Please get up…please…" I begged. But it was no use.

"The match goes to Jeanette!" the announcer had shouted. The crowd applauded wildly. But no one applauded for the loser…

"He's fine," said Ash coolly, snapping me out of my flashback. 

Misty and Brock started off toward the door, but turned around when they realized Ash wasn't following. "Aren't you coming?" Misty raised her eyebrows.

"No…I'll just stay here," Ash was trying to come off as casual, but he was overdoing it. Misty eyed him suspiciously as she slowly closed the door.

When he was sure they were gone, Ash whirled around to face me, grinning.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

He didn't say a word. In stead, he moved over to me quickly, but it seemed as if he were in slow motion. His strong, powerful arms, wrapping around me, his soft lips making contact with mine…he looked as if he expected me to pull away, but I did not. I slid my hands up his legs and leaned into the kiss. He was so wonderful…he'd saved my life and made it worth living, all in one stroke. 

It was over much too soon. He pulled away, leaving me with a smile on my face.

"You know what, Ash?" I said, looking thoughtful.

"What?" A smile played around the corners of his mouth.

"We both lost at the league, but I feel like a winner," I laughed. "I guess losers can winners after all, huh?"

"I guess so," his dark brown eyes sparkled. We pulled into another embrace.


End file.
